She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You’d think that after Leon losing his life, we’d get enough to live ours.”
He frowned. “I was afraid of that.”
“You were?” She hadn’t been. Silly her, she’d thought she and the kids would be set. Not that she expected to live like royalty or anything, but she did kind of think they’d be able to continue living the way they had been.
“Yeah, we’ve covered stories about fallen heroes and the pieces their families have to pick up. I guess I hoped your case would be different.”
“Well, it’s not.” She wanted to curse, would have if Penelope hadn’t been playing with her new toy at the other end of the table.
“We’ll work it out.” Ian shrugged and took a bite of his burger.
“Not we, Ian.”
“Oh good grief!” he barked around his food. He chewed, swallowed. “Stop being so damn touchy.”
“I’m not being touchy.” She dropped her fork, which perklunked on the table. “This isn’t your problem, Ian. We are not your problem.”
One shoulder rose, fell. “I can’t argue with that.”
He stood, gathered his mostly eaten burger in the crinkly paper and chucked it in the garbage. He took a final swig of the Coke, tossed the can in the recycle bin and strode out of the kitchen.
Kayla didn’t follow and had to admit to being a bit surprised when the front door opened and closed quietly. She owed him an apology, but she’d be damned if she could summon the courage to chase him down and offer it.
Life would be easier without Ian. That wasn’t exactly true. The hellish rollercoaster she was on would definitely be easier with Ian in the passenger seat, but he didn’t belong there. He had a life of his own to live.
Besides he’d leave eventually and if she’d come to depend on him…
It’d definitely be much better if he walked away now.
Sometimes Ian wanted to shake Kayla silly. Just grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her head cleared. She frustrated the shit out of him. It wasn’t as if he were asking her to marry him. Hell, he’d done his damnedest to keep his feelings under wraps.
She was in hell, no denying that. But he’d shown up with a fire hose, trying to keep the flames at bay while she picked up the damn pieces of her life. He hadn’t asked her for a freakin’ thing. Not one. Damn. Thing.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe this mess wasn’t his problem. Maybe she and the kids would be just fine and he was spinning his wheels, tromping all over hallowed ground.
His stomach growled. Dammit. Whatever. He shouldn’t be eating that nuclear waste anyway. Eat clean. It wasn’t just a gimmick. Ian’s body had been all out of whack since Leon’s death. He needed to get his shit together.
Screw all this drama.
Ian needed to hit the gym, wipe Kayla and the kids out of his head. Even if only for a couple hours. Because fool that he was he’d jump right back into the madness that was Kayla’s life as soon as she opened the door again.
Color him stupid.
He jogged up the stairs of his house, changed into a black wife-beater and shorts, grabbed his Nikes and headed back downstairs. The whole ordeal took less than five minutes. Add three to the clock and he was out the door, keys in hand.
The local country station had been taken over by sad and sappy, so he turned the dial to something loud and angry. Hard beats, insane guitar solos and incensed lyrics drove the thoughts of his home situation out of his head. Except the moment he praised his ability to forget them, the Black family showed up in his frontal lobe.
A police cruiser pulled up behind him at a light.
Perfect.
He prepared himself for the flash of the red and blue, mentally handing over the license, registration and proof of insurance. The only light he saw, though, was the flash of red to green.
Slowly, gently pressing his foot against the accelerator, the Mustang eased off the line. North Las Vegas’ finest stayed close, but as Ian turned into the gym’s parking lot, the uniforms kept right on driving.
What a joke.
He hadn’t done anything wrong. Now he’d drifted from pathetic to paranoid. Awesome!
Ian got out, locked his Mustang and strode toward the gym. The parking lot seemed a little barren, familiar vehicles lacking.
The moment he opened the door a sense of rightness welcomed him. He’d missed this place and hadn’t realized how much until just now. He took a deep breath. If testosterone had a scent, surely this was what it’d smell like.
“Well, hey, stranger.”
Ian looked into the big blue eyes of Denali, a living breathing Barbie doll. With her long blond hair and killer body, men stopped to take notice. Her shorty shorts and sports bra with the six-pack in between didn’t hurt things.
“Hey, babe. How you been?”
“Good.” She smiled. Lots of perfect white teeth. Total freaking package. “Where the hell you been?”
In hell. “Just had some shit to take care of.” He shot a glance around the gym. “Diaz around?”
Her laugh spoke of humor…and sex. The low husky tone making his groin stop and take notice. “You have been gone a while. He finally landed that job at Encore. He’s been MIA for weeks. They’re working his sexy ass off.”
“That’s a shame.” And it was. Not that Ian gave a rat’s ass about Ryan’s. Sexy as it was, apparently. Ian needed to be pushed to his limits. He needed to peel his muscles off his bones, work them until they screamed for mercy. He needed to feel something other than the pain of watching Kayla flounder.
At least if his abs burned and his thighs ached so badly he couldn’t stand after taking a dump, he knew that pain would go away.
Maybe what he really needed was to consider moving. To Zimbabwe or freakin’ Timbuktu.
“You need a spotter?”
His turn to laugh. “Like you could help me?”
She frowned, her full lip going pouty. “Hey. I’m stronger than I look.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll just hit the treadmill.” Lame. Seriously damned lame. He had a treadmill at home, and he sure as hell didn’t enjoy playing hamster. He knew all about running and getting nowhere. Story. Of. His. Life.
He crossed the gym and climbed aboard. A few beeps and the tread chugged to life. Setting the pace for a six-minute mile, he checked out the wall of TVs and focused on the closed caption. Good ol’ KKLV was covering the latest in the attempted murder of Shayne Santiago. Court dates were set. Man, Ian hoped they all got the chair. They deserved worse, but vigilante justice wasn’t legal.
Ah, and the next story was an update on Leon’s killer. The drug dealer turned murderer had been apprehended in Yuma, Arizona. Apparently the dumb shit didn’t quite run far enough.
Ian wondered if Kayla knew yet.
Did it matter if she did?
He wiped at his face with his forearm and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to see her sad expression, her tears, but there they were on the dark side of his lids.
Shit!
He stumbled, doubled his step and cursed again. Enough was enough. He pounded the giant red stop button and all but leapt from the hamster wheel. His desire to ache somewhere other than his heart drove him to the free weights.
He’d start with his legs and work up. He adjusted the weight limit. Lying back on the padded bench, Ian positioned himself on the leg press. He pushed upward, extending his legs. A familiar strain tensed his thighs and calves. Bending his knees, he brought the weight and his legs back toward his chest. Up, down. Up, down. His breaths matched the motion. In, out. Up, down.
The light clanking of the metal filled his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, he felt grounded. He hadn’t realized how disconnected he’d become. He didn’t even recognize the man beneath the skin. What the hell had happened to him?
“To update our top stories. Bernardo Ruiz, the man who shot and killed Detective Leon Black last month, has…”
Ian s
queezed his lids shut. Yeah. That was the reason his life become a train wreck.
“I don’t need you. This isn’t your problem. I don’t need you.”
Dammit, he wanted to be needed.
“Um…Ian?”
His eyes flipped open. Denali smiled at him. She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. A brow rose, her blue eyes twinkled. “You all right?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Why you sitting over here all folded in half?”
“I’m not…” The denial died on his tongue when she giggled.
She sank down on the weight bench next to his, her tight belly showing up at eye level. “What’s wrong?”
“Just got a lot on my mind.” He unfolded his body from the leg press. Twisting around, he dropped his feet to the floor, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
She leaned forward, too. “Does it have anything to do with why you haven’t been around?”
He didn’t want to talk about it. And yet… “Yeah.”
Her soft hand gently covered his forearm. “Maybe you need to go out and have some fun.”
He grunted.
She laughed. “How about Friday night? My treat.”
Did she just…?
His head snapped up. A smile said he hadn’t misinterpreted the invitation.
“Oh, come on.” Her happy-go-lucky faltered. “Don’t look so mortified.”
“Oh, man.” His hand flashed out to take hold of hers. “Not mortified. Definitely not mortified.” He shook the cobwebs—and Kayla—out of his head. “You surprised me is all. Friday is great, but I’m not going to let you pay.”
“Non-negotiable. Does six work? We can grab some dinner and catch the latest action flick. I’ve got a thing for superheroes.”
Ian frowned, not liking this at all. “Huh-uh.”
“Huh-uh?”
“Oh, the dinner and movie sound great, but I’m not letting you pay.”
She rolled her eyes. “How very misogynistic of you.”
“I prefer chivalrous.” He stood, reached out to take her hand and guide her to join him. “Dinner or movie?”
Her brows formed a V. “What?”
“Dinner or movie?”
“Ah…movie?”
“Great. I’ll pick you up about six. I’ll pay for dinner and you pay for the movie.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
Her laughter bubbled up, tinkling in the air. Ian found himself laughing along with her. Wow, it’d been a long time since he’d laughed, since he’d had a reason to.
He really liked Denali. She was beautiful, no argument, but her sarcastic sense of humor and easy-going, no drama attitude clenched it. Denali Conrad was the entire package.
She took his hand. “Deal, on one condition.”
His heart thudded and his palms sweated. Damn, it’d been a long time since a woman made him nervous. “Name it.”
“A kiss.” She winked and the corner of her mouth lifted. “I want just one little, itty-bitty goodnight kiss.”
Sucker punch to the gut. She’d surprised him again. He could get used to this. All of it. The surprises. The way she looked at him.
Now he surprised himself. He’d leaned in close, cupped her cheek with his hand and rubbed his thumb over her freckles. But if that shocked him, that was nothing to when he leaned down to kiss those freckles and whispered, “I think that can be arranged.”
She sighed and the soft breath went straight to his groin. Yes, he could get very used to a woman actually wanting him around.
A bell dinged, announcing the arrival of someone. She looked up at the door, then him. “So, um, I guess I’d better get back to work.”
“Ah, yeah.” Holy shit, he was turned on. It’d been a long damn time since that’d happened too. “I’ll see you Friday.”
One blond brow arched. “Unless I see you first.”
“You gonna stalk me?”
Another husky giggle. “No. But it’s only Tuesday. You could come back tomorrow.”
An honest-to-goodness grin grabbed hold of his lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Seven
Depression. Technical term? Probably. All Kayla wanted to do was climb into bed, pull the covers over her head and hide away forever. Or drug herself into a stupor. Yes, definitely depression.
The only thing keeping her going was her children. And Ian.
Poor Ian.
The house phone rang. Again.
She’d gotten tired of all the I’m sorry’s weeks ago. Nobody was trying to burden her, she was sure. But every time someone offered the standard if there’s anything I can do… she choked on a scream.
There wasn’t anything anyone could do. Short of bringing Leon back from the dead, the rest were fruitless efforts. Plain and simple.
Kayla knew she needed to pick up the pieces of her shattered happily-ever-after and find some way to survive. Because survival was all it’d ever be. Leon had been her everything. Neither of them perfect alone, but oh, so perfect together.
The answering machine took over, fielding the well intentioned annoyance. Kayla, it’s Dr. Monroe, Scott. It’s Friday afternoon about two o’clock. I heard the news. I’m sorry. I have a proposition for you. Call me. He finished with his number.
What kind of proposition could a happily married man, twenty years her senior have for her? She’d enjoyed working for Dr. Monroe. But that’d been a long time ago.
She glanced back down at the checkbook register and wanted to holler the house down. They’d worked really hard, she and Leon, to build up their savings account, but at this rate she’d drain it. All those zeros weren’t going to last long.
Reaching for the phone, she found the last number on the caller id and stared at the ten digits. Thoughts tumbled through her mind, none of them holding any real significance. Since she had no idea what Dr. Monroe wanted, speculation would only drive her crazy-er. She jabbed at the call button and waited. One ring. Two.
“Hello?”
“Dr. Monroe?”
“Kayla!” He sounded so cheerful she thought she might puke. “I’m so glad you returned my call.”
“You said you had a proposition?”
“Yes. Yes.” He took a deep breath. “First of all I want you to know how sorry I am to hear of your loss.”
Yeah. Yeah. Thanks. “Thank you.”
“I’m not sure what your situation is—and please don’t be offended by my next statement—I would like to offer you a job.”
Her heart hopped. “A job?”
“My office manager, Barbara—you remember Barbara?—just gave her notice. She’s leaving me after fifteen years. I know you didn’t work up front much, but you knew the system. You could move over into a hygienist position when one opens if you wanted.” He chuckled softly. “Listen to me rambling like a fool. My point is that I have a position and it’s yours if you want it.” He went on to explain he’d pay her a comfortable, more than fair salary and she’d have medical, dental and a freakin’ 401k.
Her eyes burned. The man threw her a lifeline. In response, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hug him.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“What, um,” she whispered through a tight throat, “what hours would need me?”
“Ten to six, Monday through Thursday, and noon to four on Fridays.”
Her stomach rolled when her heart dropped into it. “My daughter isn’t in school and I don’t—”
“Don’t say no yet. Take a couple weeks. Think about it. Barbara gave me two months notice. She’s retiring. So I’ve got time.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, splashing onto the checkbook register. The numbers smeared. “Thank you, Dr. Monroe.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
The line went dead. She stared at the phone. “I’ll be damned.”
Just when she’d thought the world hated her, the unspoken prayer had been answered. Maybe there was a God. The last six weeks it sure hadn
’t felt like it. For all the gumdrops and lollipops that came with the job offer there was one big problem.
“Mooooom!”
Speak of the devil.
“Moooommmmy! I awaaaake!”
The bellowing would continue until Kayla retrieved the little banshee from her crib. The other two children had been climbers, able to free themselves long before their third birthday. But not Penelope. Their princess didn’t have a daring bone in her body and stayed put, safely inside the bars of her prison.
Kayla jogged up the stairs, thinking of her daughter and the potential of a job. She wanted to take the position, needed to take it. Her family needed the income, but childcare was expensive and Kayla didn’t trust the idea of another person watching her daughter. No one would take care of her as well as Kayla could. But she couldn’t take care of any of her children if they lost their house and had to live in a cardboard box under an overpass.
Ha. Now she was just being dramatic.
As long as she were able to make the payment on her SUV, they’d have a roof over their heads.
Maybe she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. Or maybe she needed more sleep. Punch drunk. Wasn’t that what they called this?
The bellowing continued. “Mommy. Mommy. Mommy! I awaaaaaake!”
Her genuine smile actually hurt her cheeks. It’d been so long since her dimples had made an appearance. She hadn’t had much to smile about. But the cheerful announcement from her daughter warmed her heart.
Perhaps she could learn to be happy again.
She cracked the door to find Pene jumping, her chubby hands white-knuckling the railing, her feet springing off the mattress, her curls bouncing wildly. The moment she realized Kayla played witness, she squealed, “Mommy!”
Kayla grinned. Yes, this was why she needed to put on her big girl panties and move on with her life. Her children didn’t deserve a catatonic mother. Their family had always been a happy one. Just because Leon’s laughter no longer joined in the party didn’t mean they couldn’t find happily-ever-after again.
Kissing Pene on the cheek, Kayla lifted her over the edge, setting her on the floor. Pene, independent to a fault, raced over to her dresser and went about the task of changing her undies. She put her shorts on, yelling, “I ready,” on her way out the door.
Hard Break (Deadlines & Diamonds, #5) Page 5
